We'll Go Together
by Phoenix Refrain
Summary: The concept of "Cradle to the Grave" is shown in the final act of Rebellion for Cashmere and Gloss.


**Week 2 of 13 Weeks of Rebellion: Cashmere and Gloss.**

**The Phoenix: Burning Day will be updated tomorrow-(Sat). My computer and internet are giving me a FIT. X_X (Anyone know how to stop a keyboard from skipping around to where ever the mouse icon is even when you aren't touching anything?)**

**"From Cradle to Grave"(the full story of Cashmere and Gloss entitled "From Cradle to Grave" comes in 2014/2015 (Early)**

_1. Present or in effect throughout a person's lifetime_

_2. Occurring or persisting from beginning to end:_

_**Such is life and life is such and after all it isn't much. First a cradle. Then a hearse. It might have been better, but it could have been worse.**_

_**Norman Wisdom**_

We sit there in the cold dark room crying. I cling to his neck, and he wraps his arm around me so tightly that it makes it harder to breathe, but it's a pleasant pain because it's a comfort. He is still here, still _alive_. The light begins to seep through the windows, and I know that we don't have long now. Finally, we break away from each other, and I look into his big green eyes—the mirror of mine. I have shared my entire life with him, shared a womb—shared the experience of the Games and now we've shared something else-the loss of everything we love and fought so hard to keep.

I look around the room, just a typical room of young girls. Dresses in the closet, clothes fallen on the floor…stuffed animals. There is no other sign that the inhabitants are gone never to return.

Gloss and I had weighed our options carefully. Satin and Lace were much younger than us—of reaping age now. That didn't matter this year—this was a Quell, and Victors were going back. The chances were one of us was going back. We didn't have to be told to know we were being punished. We didn't have to think hard to know that Snow would come to threaten our family to get us to do what he wanted. He had before—it's why the both of us had volunteered so long ago.

We knew that if we fled, he'd find us and kill us. He would hunt us down like dogs and show his power, use us as a warning. Even now, as Lace and Satin race through the forest with the peacekeeper we paid to take them—we know how slim a chance it is for them to escape. But their odds are so much better when we are here. If we had gone, they would never stop looking for them.

But if we remained…if mom and dad stayed here, then Snow would have leverage against us, and they wouldn't go after them as badly.

They had taken our parents three days ago. We knew when they were taken, silently and calmly because we had anticipated it, that we would not see them again. We kissed them and hid our tears. They could be dead already, they might be dead soon…We'll never know what happens to them.

All night long, we had sat on the empty beds of our sister's room hoping and praying that they were safe. That the sacrifices we had chosen would keep them safe. Our parents were just the down payment. We were the collateral.

Slowly, we rise. Neither of us bother to shower—we part long enough to change clothes. Gloss helps me with the zipper of my dress, and I help tie his tie. I hold his face in my hands and look at him long and hard. This is the last time I will ever get to look at him in our home—in safety.

I feel the tears spill from my eyes, and I place one hand over his heart. The beating of it is so familiar, I would know the sound anywhere—I heard it long before we were born. "You're half my soul," I whisper as I brush the tears from my eyes.

"You're half of mine," he says back gently.

"You shouldn't have ever volunteered," I look up at him sadly.

"We did it to save them," he kisses the top of my head.

"Look how far that got us," I half laugh and half sob. Because we're in the same position as before. But I clear my throat, I have to be strong. I pull away to fix my make-up. I cover up the dark lines under my eyes from sleepless nights. "I wish we'd gotten the chance to live." I say it softly.

"We were never going to be allowed to love or get married, not if we ever wanted anyone to be safe." He's right, of course.

I look at the clock, and I see we have so little time left.

"Are you ready?" I ask him, offering my hand.

He doesn't say a word when he takes it.

The walk is not long from Victor's Village to the city square, and there are many others coming with us—some old and frail, and some strong. We walk with our heads up, shoulders back and proud.

There is no doubt that at least one of us is going in the arena for what we've done. We're traitors. We've helped our sibling escape. Our parents are dead or being tortured for information, because they stayed behind—stayed behind to satiate Snow's need to punish someone we love before us. If they had gone, he'd have had no one—so they stayed, they payed the price to give our sisters a better chance. Why hunt for more leverage when the forests would take care of them?

Gloss and I never even thought about going ourselves. We knew if we stayed here that he'd chose one of us to go as punishment. After all the pain we'd endured of living…it wouldn't be so hard to die. We had made our decision—together. We'd do it like every adventure we'd taken—we'd go together.

We're separated for a short time as they read the Treaty of Treason, and I close my eyes listening to it for a moment. These are the last moments I'll ever be here—the last time I'll ever be home…alive. Then the escort dips her hand in the bowl and pulls out a name. I'm not shocked when it's mine. Walking to the platform isn't as hard as I thought it would be. I thought the walk to death would be tearful or sad—terrible. But I keep my chin up, and when I reach the escort I shake her hand as she looks at me with saddened eyes.

But I don't cry. I am resolved. The choice was made three months ago, all that's left now is quiet acceptance.

I face the crowd, and I see how solemn they are—we who have been raised for this, raised for slaughter, for battle—raised to die or conquer. And still, no one is crazy enough to want to go back—you know better when you're a Victor. I glance over them, and I find my brother, my Gloss. I meet his eyes and as the escort pulls out the paper, I reach out my hand for Gloss.

She's unfolding it, but he's already on the stage and taking my hand in his. He grips my hand so hard it hurts, and he looks into my eyes. I never hear if he volunteered or he was called. It doesn't matter. All that matters is he's here.

_We'll go together._

We were five when we promised it. We didn't know what we meant at the time. We didn't know that it would mean this. We weren't going to play games anymore. Sure, that's where we were headed—and we'd fight until we died—but we weren't coming home. Our sisters were gone, parents probably dead—there was nothing to come back to. We would fight—put on a show, so that if by some chance they found our sisters or our parents still alive that they would have mercy, nothing more. But we weren't coming back, we weren't going to play games anymore.

_Yes, we'll go together._


End file.
